Page 35 of The Editor’s Choice

“Why would you want me?” she asks meekly. “After all the things I admitted to doing. I killed my best friend, for the love of all things holy. There’s no redemption for somebody like me. No happy endings here.” The ache in her voice is soul crushing. Even worse than the ache is the fact that she fully believes that line of bullshit.

“Do you think I’m capable of being saved? Worthy of being loved and happy and fulfilled?” I ask, genuinely curious. If she feels that way about the one death she’s responsible for, I can only imagine how she feels about the things I’ve done.

She shoots straight up like a rocket, sparks of rage dancing across her tear-streaked face. “Of course I do! You’re absolutely worthy of all of those things and so much more. Regardless of how you feel about yourself, you are a good man, Roman. You did what you had to do to survive, and I’d even gamble to say you’re better for the wicked and terrible things you’ve done. You’re stronger because of the things you’ve had to do. Doing what you had to do doesn’t make you any less worth of redemption or love than anyone else.”

She’s panting by the time she steps down off the soapbox, anger dissipating slowly as the reality of what she just said takes hold.

“Holy fuck,” is her only response.

“Exactly. You did what you had to do in order to survive, Jade. Literally. Had Emily gotten as far as trading you to those men, I can guarantee without a sliver of doubt in my wretched soul that you would not have survived. I know some of those men personally. Those men truly are monsters. They find a sick pleasure in doing unspeakable things, especially to women, before they slice their throats, dismember their bodies, and get rid of any evidence they ever existed in this world.” The disgust that crosses her face is justified, as well as the fear. She has no clue how close she came to a gruesome death.

We sit in a weighted silence, neither of us sure what to say now. Things could’ve ended up very differently. But here we are, together, talking openly for the first time. Maybe there is some hope after all.

She lays her head on the throw pillow, her feet now pulled up on the middle section of the couch next to mine. “Truth or dare?” she asks, eliciting a ludicrous laugh from me.

“Truth?” I say, half statement, half question.

“Do you really think we’re going to be okay in the end?” she asks, barely able to voice the question.

I pause, not at all wanting to break the honesty we’ve had going for us tonight, but I don’t dare to tell her the entire truth now. She’s been through too much tonight. “I think we will figure it out, no matter what comes our way. Come hell or high water.”

She nods lightly, snuggling down further into the couch. The exhaustion from everything that transpired tonight pulls her under within minutes. When her soft breaths take on steady rhythm, I find a fuzzy blanket and cover her, tucking it in around her.

With a gentle kiss to her forehead, careful not to rouse her, I settle in with a blanket of my own, feeling anxious but ready to take on whatever is coming for us in the days ahead.

This girl deserves the world, and I’m hellbent on giving it to her with no regard for the cost.

Chapter Nineteen

Jade

I wake with a jolt, heart pounding in my ears, skin covered in a cold sweat. In the dimly lit living room, I’m able to make out a form on the other end of the couch, breathing steadily.

It takes a full ten seconds to register that it’s Roman on the couch opposite of me. When that fact sets in, I put my hand to my chest, covering my pounding heart.

I’m so damn jumpy lately, I chastise in my head, shaking it slowly to clear the terror that has resigned there for way too long now.

My breathing slows over the course of the next couple minutes, lulling me into a peaceful state as I watch the beginnings of the sunrise from where I lie. That damn nightmare pulled me out of deep sleep yet again, same as most every night lately. But I feel more energized and better than I have in weeks this morning.

It’s oddly comforting to know he stayed last night, even after everything was laid out on the table. By the end, we were both baring scars, old and new, for the other to examine. Bleeding freely, openly expectant of the other to walk away instead of bathing in the blood of our shared atrocities.

At the end of the night, our fates seemed sealed and intimately intertwined. Only time will tell, of course, but there was something special about last night. Like a final puzzle piece clicking into place.

My eyes bounce between the sunrise and Roman, sleeping peacefully still. As much as I don’t want to disturb him, I’m itching to be close to him again, so I shift over to his side of the couch, climbing underneath the cover and flush with his warm body.

Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer than I could have imagined possible.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, voice thick with sleep. The low hum of his voice sets my blood on fire.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I wasn’t trying to wake you. I just wanted to be close.” I turn my head to try to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous features. He’s absolutely mesmerizing when he’s totally content.

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he says, nuzzling his nose into my neck.

“Go back to sleep,” I say, instead of spewing the apology that’s still dancing on the tip of my tongue.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” he says, running his hand lightly up and down my arm. “You look flawless in the sunrise. I wouldn’t want to miss this view for the world.”

I can’t even fight the smile that takes over my face, threatening to split my head in half. Instead, I roll my eyes, feeling half drunk from the exchange.